Crushed
by kendokao
Summary: Cell has been defeated, which ought to mean that normalcy is within reach. However, no such luck awaits Earth's young savior. Gohan has contracted Goku's heart virus, but the medicine has run out. How long can a child hold on? AU
1. Breakdown

Disclaimer: This story is a not-for-profit fan work based on Akira Toriyama's _Dragon Ball_ series. I claim no affiliation with Bird Studios, Toei or FUNimation.

**Crushed **

**Chapter 1: Breakdown**

Son Gohan hugged the pillow tightly as he tried to fall asleep. It had been four days since the Cell Games. Three days since his father's funeral. The boy had slept with his father's pillow every night since the fight with Cell. The pillow smelled like Goku – a mixture of pine, sweat, and Chichi's good cooking. An unusual combination, yes, but it was a good smell, a comforting smell. Gohan was beginning to find that the nights were the hardest to get through, and any comfort, big or small, was welcome.

As Gohan lay his head on the pillow, he was reminded of Goku's last moments. How he stood in front of his son, brave and noble and strong, ready to transport Cell away from the earth. His gold hair, his determined face, his emerald eyes full of love and pride and so much more. His voice as he bid his son farewell… "Goodbye, my son." Those words played over and over in Gohan's mind as the boy drifted off to sleep…

_Gohan walked in the direction of the river near his house. He felt a little guilty for sneaking out, but he shook the feeling off. Everyone deserved a break from time to time, and besides, it was far too nice a day to spend cooped up in his room studying. The sky was crystal clear, and Gohan admired the light as it fell through the leaves of the trees._

_As Gohan neared the river, he noticed a figure standing at the bank, just beyond the trees. It almost looked like… but it couldn't be. Yet… it was! Gohan ran as fast as his legs would carry him. "Daddy!" he cried._

_He threw his arms around his father's waist. "You're alive!" he cried, tears streaming down his face._

_Goku returned his embrace, laughing. "Of course I am, son!" he said. "Why wouldn't I be?"_

_"B-but Cell killed you, don't you remember? I saw it, and later you talked to me from the underworld, and–"_

_Goku just hugged him tighter. "Well, I'm here now, aren't I? Everything's okay, Gohan, I promise."_

_But something was wrong. "Ouch, Dad, you're hurting me!" But when Gohan looked up, it wasn't Goku's face he saw; it was Cell's. Gohan froze in terror as Goku's joyful laugh was replaced by Cell's evil one. He struggled to break free of the embrace but found himself trapped. He was back at the Cell Games, being tortured as his friends watched helplessly. He was being crushed, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer._

_"Get angry, Gohan," Cell taunted. "It makes you mad that you're in pain!" Gohan struggled to breathe. "I can feel your bones beginning to crack," Cell continued._

_Just as Gohan thought he couldn't take any more, Cell released him. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath._

Gohan woke up, panting and covered in a cold sweat. It had only been a dream. Just a dream. But no, wait, something about this wasnt right. The pain hadnt gone away. In fact, it was getting worse!

Gohan clutched his chest. This was different than the pain he felt during training or battles. This pain was coming from the inside. It felt like Cell was still crushing him, but in a much more targeted way. And there was a burning feeling coming from his… his heart! Realization dawned on him. Goku's heart virus. Gohan remembered Piccolo's warning to Yamcha that the virus could be contagious.

He forced himself to his feet and staggered to his mother's room while he had the strength. Chichi was still sleeping. Gohan roughly shook her. "Mom," he said painfully.

Chichi slowly blinked. "Gohan?" she said drowsily. "What is it, honey?"

"Where's… Dad's… heart… medicine?"

Chichi snapped awake and caught her son as the boy's knees gave out. "Ehh? Gohan, baby, what's happening?"

"Heart… virus… must've been… Dad's… pillow…" he replied weakly.

"Never mind, don't try an' talk," Chichi commanded, her voice edged with panic. She scooped up Gohan and lay him down gently on the bed. "Now, you just wait right here while I get the heart medicine…"

A few minutes later Chichi came back into the room, a small bottle in hand. She knelt next to the bed and opened the bottle. As she examined the contents, her face turned pale. Barely a tablespoon of the live-saving liquid remained. No! That couldn't be it! It had definitely taken more than this to make Goku better, but Goku was a full-grown adult. Gohan was only a child; would this lesser dosage be enough?

Gohan let out a small groan, his face scrunched up in pain. Chichi snapped back into action. She tipped the bottle toward Gohans open mouth, administering about half the remaining medication. He choked it down painfully, struggling to stay conscious. The pain in his chest was maddening. But after a few minutes the boy's face relaxed slightly. The medicine was beginning to take effect. He smiled weakly at his mother, his hand still clutching his chest. Gohan's eyes closed as he fell into a deep sleep.

A loud knock at the door startled Chichi out of her motherly trance. She lingered next to the bed, reluctant to leave her son's side. The knock came again, this time more urgently than before. "All right, all right," she muttered irritably. She swung open the door and found Kuririn, his expression tinged with fear and concern. "Whadaya want, Kuririn?" Chichi snapped.

"Well, um, is everything okay?" Kuririn asked nervously. "I felt a disturbance in Gohan's ki, and I, uh, wanted to make sure nothing bad had happened or anything."

"Is everything okay?" Chichi yelled. "Is everything OKAY? My baby boy is dying! Of course it's not okay!"

"Dying?" Kuririn asked, startled. "How? What happened?"

"That stupid heart virus, that's what!"

"Heart virus?" The color drained from Kuririn's face. "B-but how? And don't you still have medicine for that?"

"There's only one dose left!" Chichi fell to her knees, sobbing. Kuririn caught her and helped her back inside. When they reached the room where Gohan lay asleep, however, they found an unexpected guest.

Piccolo was halfway through the window. His face turned purple when he noticed Kuririn and Chichi. But Kuririn just smiled grimly. "You felt it, too, huh?"

Piccolo grunted in response as he pulled the rest of his body through the window. "What… happened?" he asked as he walked toward the bed.

"Goku's heart virus," Kuririn explained as he helped Chichi settle into a chair next to the bed. "I guess we all forgot how contagious that thing supposedly was. And there isn't enough medicine left… only one dose."

Chichi wiped her tears on her sleeve. "A little more, actually; about a tablespoon. I already gave him some of it," she said, struggling to keep her voice level. "He's been sleeping with Goku's pillow the past few nights… seemed to think that might've been it. I never did remember to change the pillowcase…" Her voice drifted off as the tears came back.

_

* * *

Darkness. He was surrounded by darkness. What was going on? Then Gohan remembered – the heart virus. But the pain was gone. Well, okay, not completely. It was still there, waiting to strike again, but it wasnt nearly as bad as it had been before. It had been reduced to little more that a dull throb in his chest, at least for now._

_Gohan could hear voices, though they sounded far away. His mother… Kuririn… Piccolo… He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he sensed the concern in their words. He could discern Chichis sobbing, with Kuririn trying to comfort her despite his own uneasiness. And Piccolo's gruff silence. But Gohan was aware of the disquiet in his mentor's mind. One particular thought came across loud and clear: _Don't you dare die on me, kid_._

_Die? But what about the medicine? Gohan vaguely recalled seeing Chichi shaking the bottle desperately. Realization hit him. There must not be enough. So thats why everyone was so scared…_

_More voices came through. A baby was crying loudly; Bulma must have brought Trunks. Tenshinhan and Yamcha weren't talking much, but Gohan could feel their ki. Even Vegeta was there. Gohan could sense the fear, the tension, the uncertainty in the room. He was hurting his friends again. Just like he always managed to do. "I'm sorry," he whispered into the darkness._

* * *

Piccolo stood watch over Gohan's bed. Chichi and Kuririn were in the kitchen with the others, explaining the situation. Yamcha and Kame Sen'nin had arrived about an hour ago, followed shortly by Tenshinhan and Chaozu. Vegeta and Bulma had also come with their child. It was almost noon, and Kuririn had finally convinced Chichi that she needed to eat something, if only to keep her strength up. Since Piccolo didn't require food, he had volunteered to keep vigil over Gohan while the others gathered in the kitchen.

It struck the Namekian just how small the boy looked in that bed. The kid had never been particularly big for his age, but this was something new. His pale face contrasted harshly with his wild black hair, and his body appeared to have been swallowed by the sheets. It didn't seem possible that this same boy had saved the world from Cell just a few days before.

Gohan stirred fitfully in his sleep. On his chest his fingers curled tighter in the folds of his shirt. "Mr. Piccolo," he mumbled. He shifted uncomfortably, his face scrunched up in a grimace. Before he realized what he was doing, Piccolo reached for the boy's hand and gave it a squeeze. _I'm sorry this is happening to you, kid_, he thought, _but I'm here for you. I promise_. Gohan gripped his mentor's hand tightly, making the Namekian wince. But it was a small comfort to know the boy's strength hadn't diminished too drastically. Not yet, anyway.

Chichi reentered the room, eyes puffy and red. The others hovered just beyond the doorway. She smiled at Piccolo gratefully. "Thank you for looking after him," Chichi said. "You can take a break if you like."

The Namekian nodded in understanding. He attempted to stand, but Gohan's grip on his hand was unrelenting. In fact, it merely tightened. Piccolo winced. "He won't let go of my hand," he explained to the boy's mother.

This time it was Chichi's turn to nod. As she reached for another chair, however, Gohan let out a loud groan. The boy tossed and turned painfully. Chichi rushed to her son's side, the bottle of heart medicine in her hand. "Mommy's here, Gohan, sweetie," she said, her tone soothing even as her eyes filled with panic. "Open your mouth, honey, Mommy's got medicine."

It took a minute, but Gohan swallowed the last few drops from the bottle. His expression relaxed slightly, and he somewhat loosened his grip on Piccolo's hand. Chichi sighed and sank back into her chair. "Well, that was the last of it," she said. "Now what?"

Piccolo's gaze remained on the small boy lying in the bed. "Now we wait," he responded.


	2. Hurting

**Crushed**

**Chapter 2: Hurting**

Gohan spent most of the day asleep. By the time he did wake up, the sun had long since set. The first thing he was aware of was a crushing pain. He doubled over, clutching his chest. "Augh!" he cried out.

Chichi appeared at his side immediately. "Gohan!"

The boy leaned forward, panting. His chest was on fire, and it felt like his heart had been put in a trash compactor. He had never experienced anything like it. Still, seeing the concern on Chichi's face, Gohan mustered a weak smile of reassurance. "Sorry to worry you so much, Mom," he said.

Chichi shook her head. "You have no reason to apologize, sweetie," she responded. "My poor baby… this must be so _scary_ for you…"

"It's okay, Mom. I'm not scared," Gohan assured her. "Really, I'm not. I know what's going on with the medicine… I know there isn't any more left. But that's okay. I mean it, I'm fine with it." He grasped the sheets spasmodically. "And, Mom? Where's Piccolo?"

Chichi stared at her son in astonishment.

"Yeah, I know everyone's here; I heard them in my sleep. Plus, I can feel their ki."

"Right… Gimme a minute while I get him…"

A tall, green, pointy-eared figure joined them in the room. Gohan sat up immediately. "Hi, Piccolo," he said brightly.

"Hey, kid," replied the Namekian. His heart wrenched as he took in the sight of the boy. The toll of the virus was starting to become evident. Maybe no one else noticed because Gohan was trying so hard to hide it, but Piccolo knew better. The boy's deep black eyes had grown haggard, and his small hands clenched the sheets tightly. His ki wavered up and down, as though fighting to maintain a steady level.

Piccolo sat down in the chair next to the bed. "So, how are you feeling, kid?"

"It hurts," Gohan admitted, "but I guess it could be worse." He offered a weak smile.

The Namekian took his hand and squeezed it gently. "You've managed to do fine so far, kid," he said. "We're all here for you. I promise."

The half-Saiyan child looked his friend straight in the eye. "Piccolo, I know what's going to happen… but it's okay. Really. I'm not scared or anything," he said. "It won't be so bad; I'll be with Dad, so it's not like I'll be alone in the afterlife or anything. I'll even tell him hi for you…"

Gohan stopped. His breathing was heavy and labored. Piccolo placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I think it's about time you got some rest," he said. Gohan nodded and lay down. Eventually he fell into a fitful sleep.

Chichi remained by her son's side while Piccolo joined the assembly of warriors in the living room. Kuririn shot up when he saw the Namekian. "So, how's he doing?" he asked anxiously.

Piccolo crossed his arms grimly. "He's struggling," he stated, not being one to mince words. "There's not really much we can do but wait and see how long he can hold out."

Trunks promptly burst into tears. Horror washed over Bulma's face as she attempted to calm the baby. "So there's nothing we can do?" Piccolo shook his head gravely. "I can't believe it," she exclaimed with disgust. "Just the other day Gohan defeated Cell, and now he's lying in there dying of some stupid heart virus, and we can't do anything but sit back and watch!"

"Crap… it's not fair," said Kuririn, his fists clenched.

Tenshinhan leaned back against the wall. "I wonder," he mused, "if this is what it felt like when Goku had the virus in Trunks's future."

An uneasy silence fell across the room. They all knew how this story ended in Trunks's future; the reality of the current situation hit them full-force. Yamcha pounded his fist into his hand. Kame Sen'nin stared into his coffee cup, gripping it tightly. Bulma leaned her head on Vegeta's shoulder, and the Saiyan prince made no effort to push her away. Chaozu turned up to face Tenshinhan with big eyes. "Why, Ten? Why?" he sobbed.

"I don't know, Chaozu," the three-eyed warrior replied wearily. "I just don't know."

_

* * *

He was back at the Cell Games. Pain racked his body. Cell was crushing him, and he couldn't break free. Gohan struggled desperately, but to no avail. There was nothing he could do against this onslaught of pain. He could see his father over Cell's shoulder. Goku seemed so far away. Gohan wanted to cry out to him, but he couldn't. Goku's image began to fade. _Please no!_ Gohan thought in despair, but it was too late. Goku disappeared._

_Gohan's heart broke. He could feel the crushing pain in his chest, a literal heartache. It was maddening. He was being crushed from the inside out. He let go of all awareness of his surroundings, directing his thoughts inward to where the real battle raged._

_The pain came from all sides; there was no escape. Gohan vaguely wondered if this was how Kuririn had felt the moment before Freeza destroyed him. His heart was being put through a trash compactor. Gohan bit back a scream of pain and did the only thing he could do: just keep fighting._

* * *

The next day passed by in a blur. Gohan slid in and out of consciousness, and Chichi and Piccolo took turns sitting with him. The others were banned from setting foot in the room, lest anyone else catch the virus, but Piccolo kept them updated.

Kuririn reclined on the couch, TV remote in hand. He changed the channel, and the news flashed on the screen. "Today in the Eastern District, two more people are dead thanks to a radical new heart virus," the reporter announced. "A total of thirty-two people have died since the virus first appeared six months ago. The virus works quickly, killing most victims within a day. Doctors are completely baffled by it, and there is currently no treatment available–" Kuririn turned the TV off.

"Hell, there's no escape from it, is there?" Yamcha said in disbelief.

"Yeah, well, there are some things you just gotta face," Kuririn said with a sigh. "I guess this is one of them."

Trunks, who had been sleeping in Bulma's arms, woke up and started to cry. Bulma quickly began rocking her son in as a means of quieting him. "Shut the brat up, would you, woman?" Vegeta said irritably.

"Watch it!" Bulma snapped. "Kuririn, there should be a bottle in that bag over there. Could you get it for me?"

"Sure thing," Kuririn replied. "Someone's a little edgy," he muttered to Kame Sen'nin as he passed.

"Aren't we all?" the old master responded. "So much has happened this past week – the Cell Games, Goku's passing, and now Gohan's illness – it's to be expected that we're all a little tense and afraid–even Vegeta."

"Of course!" Vegeta snapped. Everyone stared at him. "What?" he asked irritably. "It's not right that Kakarotto's brat die of some ridiculous disease rather than in battle, even if he is a half-breed."

Bulma immediately slapped him. "Asshole! Is that all you care about? That it isn't fit for a Saiyan not to die in battle? Gohan is ten years old, Vegeta! He shouldn't be dying in the first place, but he is! The least you could do is show some compassion! Oh, and also, did it not occur to you that your own son is a 'half-breed,' as you call it? Vegeta, you could at least…"

Piccolo clenched his teeth as he sat by Gohan's side. Vegeta and Bulma were at it again. He could not for the life of him see how two such stubborn people had managed to form a union long enough to produce a child, but never mind. That issue wasn't important. Not right now.

Piccolo looked at the small boy in bed, and a sharp pang shot through his heart. Gohan's coal-black eyes, usually so full of life, now had a slight dullness to them. Sweat poured down his face, and his damp bangs clung to his forehead. His breathing was heavy and uneven, and his left hand desperately clutched his heart. He grimaced and let out a small cry. _And_, Piccolo thought, _knowing Gohan, the kid's probably feeling a lot more pain than he's letting on_.

The Namekian looked at the woman sleeping in the chair across from him and felt a stab of pity for her. Barely a week had passed since Chichi had lost her husband, and now here she was watching her son suffer from this… this _thing_.

"Hey… Piccolo…"

His attention shifted to the bed. "Hey, kid," he said. "Still hanging in there?"

Gohan nodded, despite the ever-intensifying pain in his chest. Light poured through the window and fell onto the bed. "The sunrise… is awfully… pretty… isn't it?" he labored.

"I suppose," was Piccolo's gruff response. Gohan managed a small smile. Typical Piccolo. The boy felt slightly better knowing that he was around. It was a comfort to know that all of his friends were there.

His gaze fell upon his mother. She had been through so much recently… all of his friends had. A fresh wave of pain shot through Gohan's body. It felt like his chest was about to burst. He closed his eyes tightly and bit back a cry of pain. He felt Piccolo's hand on his. _No, dammit!_ he thought. _No more hurting! I've hurt them too much already… I can't do that anymore…_ But the pain was too much. Darkness rushed over him as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	3. Devastation

**Crushed**

**Chapter 3: Devastation**

Kuririn paced uneasily in the field outside the Son home. There was so much tension and uncertainty inside, it was maddening; he needed to get away, even if only for a few minutes. _Kuririn, you dumbass_, he chided himself, _you should be in there showing your support! Instead, you're out here falling apart. Some friend you are._ He felt about ready to hit himself.

"Hey, Kuririn. You okay?"

He turned around abruptly. Bulma stood behind him, a sleeping Trunks in her arms and a look of concern on her face. "Oh, hey, Bulma," he said. "I'm all right. I just needed to clear my head a little."

She nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, it's pretty tough staying in there all day, not knowing what's going to happen."

"It's…" Kuririn faltered. He looked away. "It's just not fair!" he burst out. "Gohan doesn't deserve to be going through this. He's just a kid! And he's been through enough already. It's not right."

"No, it isn't," Bulma agreed. A small smile crossed her face. "Remember what an adventure the three of us had collecting the Dragon Balls on Namek?"

Kuririn smiled at the memory. "Who could forget? Remember that haircut Chichi gave him before we left? And those clothes? The poor kid's face was so red when he showed up at the Kame House."

Bulma laughed. "Yeah, it was. We had some pretty interesting times, to say the least."

"We sure did," Kuririn concurred. A hint of sadness clouded his eyes. "Man, I miss those days…" he said, a note of longing in his voice.

The two friends fell silent. Bulma looked towards the sky. "The sunset sure is beautiful tonight," she said softly.

Kuririn followed her gaze. The sky was clear and streaked with an array of colors. Vibrant shades of pink, orange and violet ran together like watercolors as the glowing sun slid from view. "Yeah, it is," he murmured. But the moment was ruined by a child's scream from within the house.

Kuririn felt his stomach lurch. "Oh, man, this is it!" he exclaimed as he ran inside.

"What?" Bulma asked as she followed him. "What's going on in there?"

They joined their friends, who were all running towards Gohan's room. "Shit," Kuririn heard Vegeta mutter under his breath. He sensed a sudden drop in Gohan's ki and felt sick to his stomach.

The warriors stopped at the doorway. Piccolo and Chichi stood on either side of Gohan, holding his hands tightly. The boy thrashed about violently, a grimace etched on his face. "Oh, Gohan!" Chichi cried desperately. "Hang in there, sweetie!" Gohan's ki spiked for a brief moment, then continued to drop.

_The pain was coming at him from all sides–a burning, crushing pain. It felt as though his chest was caving in. He bit back another scream. He saw his mother and Piccolo by his side, and his friends standing at the door. He saw the pain in their faces, pain that he was causing. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Mom, Piccolo, everyone… I'm sorry." A sudden, crushing pain burst from his heart and shot through the rest of his body. This time he couldn't fight it. "I'll tell Dad… you guys said… hi…" he said, smiling with all the strength he could muster. And the darkness rushed over him._

The last of Gohan's ki faded away, and his body lay still. "He's… gone," Piccolo said quietly.

* * *

Gohan floated above the Serpent Road. So it appeared hed been allowed to keep his body. Must've been because he defeated Cell and all. He could feel his father's ki somewhere nearby. Oh. Right. The gravity of the situation came into focus, and it hit him – how was Gohan going to face his father? Goku would be devastated…

Gohan took a deep breath. As much as he didn't want to hurt his father, he couldn't avoid this forever. If Gohan didn't do it now, Goku would eventually feel his ki and find him anyway. And Gohan was pretty sure that was not the way Goku would prefer to find out. Besides, he really did want to see his dad again. He took off in the direction of Goku's ki.

He flew with ease above Serpent Road, golden clouds on either side of him. He saw his father long before he actually landed. Goku's back was turned as he played with Bubbles and Gregory. Gohan touched down on the scaly path, unsure of what to say.

Kaio noticed him first. "Oh, my…" He stared in shock for a moment at the hesitant boy. "Goku, I think you should see this…"

"Sure, what is it, Kaio-sama?" Goku asked as he turned around. He froze as his eyes fell upon his son. "Gohan…"

The boy ran toward him and threw his arms around his waist. "Daddy!"

Goku returned his embrace and ran his hand through the child's wild black hair. "Son, I know it was a lot to bear," he said gently. "I'm sorry. You didn't… hurt yourself, did you?"

Gohan practically fell over. "Of course not!"

"Well, what… happened?"

Gohan looked at the ground uneasily. "I got… sick."

A sense of foreboding filled Goku, and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. "What kind of sick?" he asked uncertainly. Gohan mumbled something inaudible. "What was that?"

"The heart virus," Gohan responded, failing to meet his father's gaze.

The words hit Goku like a mighty blow to the gut. He was crushed. It was his fault Gohan was dead; he'd probably gotten the virus from Goku. The warrior's eyes lingered on the halo floating above his son's head. "I did this," he said, stunned. "It's all my fault."

"No, it isn't," Gohan said earnestly. "Really, Dad, it's not your fault!"

"Yes, it is."

"Goku, would you stop blaming yourself?" Kaio exclaimed. "There's nothing you could have done."

"But if I had been there–"

"Dad, it isn't your fault!" Gohan insisted. "It's not anybody's fault! There are some things in life we just can't control–" He fell silent as they both remembered how just a few days ago Goku had said the same thing to Gohan as he prepared to defeat Cell.

Gohan looked his father straight in the eye and took a deep breath. "Okay, how about this," he said. "I'll stop blaming myself for your death, and you'll stop blaming yourself for mine. Deal?"

Goku stared at his son, dumbfounded. As Yajirobe had once put it, "That kid says good stuff sometimes." The boy never ceased to amaze him. The famous Son grin crossed Goku's face. "Deal," he said.

And as Kaio bore witness to the reunion of father and son amidst the golden clouds, he smiled to himself, knowing that this was a great beginning.

* * *

**Author's Note** (Oct. 2010): I never thought I would revisit this fic; I thought that once it was done, it was done. I didn't realize that this re-editing process would call to my attention the possibilities I created for myself in this alternate universe. Things like the adventures of Goku and Gohan in the afterlife, or what happens when Chichi realizes she's got another kid on the way so soon after losing her husband and firstborn. I'm not saying that there's more to come, because as of right now there isn't, and I don't want to get readers hopes up. However, as far as AUs go, Im glad I created this one, and I hope you've enjoyed experiencing it with me. Well, as much as you can enjoy a universe in which Gohan suffers a painful death drawn out over three chapters. Poor kid. And to think, this is what I do to my favorite character…


End file.
